I Spilled The News Today, Oh Boy
by Noritsu
Summary: Based on a single line that Chuck uttered in last night's episode. Chuck blurts out the real reason the plane crashed, unaware that Jack and Sayid don't know. Chuck, Jayid, and a splash of Chesmond. Mild cussing. Oneshot.


For those of you who do not watch Chuck, this probably won't make any sense. If you do watch Chuck and you caught the LOST reference from last night's (10/1/07) episode, this _will_ make sense. In any event, there is a full explanation at the end of the fic. I like to think of this as a 'legitimate' crossover story.

**LOST/Chuck**

**I Spilled The News Today, Oh Boy**

Authoress: Noritsu

Disclaimer

I **do not** own the LOST characters, or the LOST universe. They are copyrighted and belong to Damon Lindelof, Carlton Cuse, Bad Robot, and ABC.

I also don't own Chuck. Chuck is copyrighted, too, and belongs to NBC and various other entities.

The storyline, however, is mine. So, no pilfering, please. Thanks.

**TUN** Publishing Company

October, 2007

**T**he**U**sual**N**onsense

**I Spilled The News Today, Oh Boy**

It was a typically fair day in Los Angeles. The temperature was hovering in the mid eighties with low humidity and the sky was peppered with cottony soft clouds.

At the local Buy More store, a black SUV pulled into a parking space, the sun gleaming brilliantly across the polished exterior.

The two men who exited the car probably wouldn't have rated a second glance if it were not for the fact that they were two of the survivors from the Oceanic flight 815 crash that had returned to the mainland only a few weeks ago. A tall man with close cropped black hair slammed the driver's side door shut, and watched as his Middle Eastern friend retrieved a cup of coffee from the cup holder, closing his own door shortly thereafter.

The Iraqi man drained the contents down, and tossed the cup into the trash barrel that sat just outside the entrance to the store. Looking up at the Buy More sign, the man smiled. He elbowed his taller friend, and they exchanged a look between them, communicating silently in that way the two had developed over the course of the four months they'd been on the island.

Jack smiled and clapped Sayid on the shoulder. "I don't think technology has changed that much in four short months."

Sayid snorted. "The computer I had just purchased shortly before the crash is probably an antiquated dinosaur by now." He shook his head. "In any event, I'm not sure I'm going to buy anything today. I'm officially just looking."

This made Jack laugh. "Yeah, until the pretty salesgirl comes over and starts talking."

Sayid attempted an offended look and fell just short, which only prompted a grin from Jack as the two made their way into the store.

In stunned silence, they stood inside the entrance, their eyes sweeping over the store's interior, drinking in the sight of all the technological gadgetry, and conveniences, they'd lived without during their time on the island.

It suddenly occurred to the both of them that they hadn't a clue as to where to begin.

Jack shook his head. "Four _long_ months," he corrected himself.

This time it was Sayid's turn to laugh. He gently grabbed at the material of Jack's shirt and steered him down an aisle to the right. "Maybe some music?" he asked. "Perhaps I _will_ buy something," he added as an afterthought.

The two friends wended their way down the aisle looking at this and that, wholly unaware that they were being watched by a certain member of the Nerd Herd who had spotted their entry into the store at almost the very moment it occurred.

"Do you see that?" he hissed, as he tugged on the shirt sleeve of his friend Morgan.

"What? What?" Morgan said turning his head side to side, trying to see what it was that had caught his friend's attention.

"There! Over there!" Chuck whispered, bringing his arm up parallel to Morgan's cheek and pointing so that his friend would have a line-of-sight to follow.

"A terrorist!" Morgan blurted out. He suddenly feared for his life, and would have thrown himself down onto the floor behind the counter had Chuck not swung him around to face him.

"He's not a terrorist, you dork! It's Sayid! Jack and Sayid!" At the blank look on Morgan's face Chuck continued. "From Flight 815! You know, the plane that crashed on the island!"

Morgan's face lit up. "Oh, right! Yeah, I remember, now." He looked up at his friend, waiting for Chuck to say something more; regale him with his knowledge of the survivors and their lives.

Chuck had become obsessed with the 815 crash victims about a month ago for reasons that Chuck refused to explain, in a satisfactory manner, even to him, his best friend. It was just a bit disturbing – Chuck's sudden interest in these people – and had become even more so after they were rescued and brought back to the U.S.

But Chuck had nothing more to say at the moment. Something inside his mind had twisted his consciousness, causing his thoughts to spiral away and settle on an image of a peach rose.

_Oceanic flight 815 was shot down by surface to air missiles…_

With a great effort, Chuck shook the thought away before it could do any more damage to his psyche; conjure up any more classified secrets that he really didn't want to know.

"Um, just stay here," he said, and walked away, heading for the aisle where Jack and Sayid were standing.

xxx

The little voice that resided in the back of Sayid's mind began tickling his conscious the moment that Chuck entered the aisle where he and Jack were standing. His gaze wandered up to the large circular mirror hanging on the wall. The mirror was the kind that the store's security personnel used as a means to track the reflection of a shoplifter that was sifting his or her way through the store. He caught Chuck's reflection, and noted the way the man was standing and looking at them. Turning to face Jack, as nonchalantly as he could, he began speaking.

"Jack, I want you to remain as casual as possible," he said in a soft, but serious, tone of voice.

Jack nodded his head, alarm bells going off inside his mind as he, without even thinking about it, slipped back into the frame of mind of someone who was living on an island in the middle of nowhere, being hunted by a cloud of deadly black smoke, and people who'd been nicknamed The Others.

"Turn around and glance at the man standing right over my shoulder at the end of the aisle," Sayid said. "He's dressed in a white shirt, with a tie, and has somewhat curly hair. I believe he's one of the sales associates."

Jack spun slowly around on his heel, glanced down the aisle at Chuck, and immediately imprinted an image of the man in his mind. He continued the turn so that he was facing the opposite side of the aisle and made a show of picking up some random item off the shelf. He then turned back around and acted like he was showing the thing to Sayid, who was also looking like he was terribly interested in the object.

"He looks rather studious doesn't he?" Jack asked. "And you're right, he has a name badge."

Sayid lifted his head momentarily so he could glance in the mirror again. "I do not believe he is a overly curious well-wisher."

Jack shuffled his feet back and forth, and looked around in a seemingly random manner when, in fact, he was actually attempting to get a better look at the young man who seemed so intent on studying them that he apparently didn't realize how blatant he was being.

"I think we can take him," Jack said. "The direct approach?"

Sayid grinned and handed the techno-trinket back to Jack. "And we don't want to scare him."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Hey, I can be subtle!"

Sayid chuckled as he followed Jack to the opposite side of the aisle where Jack put the gadget back on the shelf. The two turned and took a few slow steps toward where the curious sales associate was standing. Sayid put his hand out in front of Jack bringing them to a halt.

"May we help you?" Sayid asked, keeping his tone carefully neutral so that he wouldn't scare the younger man.

The man hesitated for a few moments, and then began walking forward to meet them. He looked slightly nervous, but purposeful.

"Um, are you guys Jack and Sayid?" he asked.

"Yes, we are," Sayid answered.

For another long moment, time seemed to stretch into infinity. Then, without any warning at all, Chuck practically leapt forward and threw his arms around Jack and gave him the most lung-crushing bear hug he'd ever been on the receiving end of.

"Thank God you guys are all right!" Chuck exclaimed.

Jack stiffened and lurched backwards instinctively in an attempt to throw the man off balance.

It didn't work.

Chuck was clinging to him for dear life, and was chattering to Sayid across Jack's shoulder about how glad he was that they'd been rescued from the island, and how bad he felt for the families of the ones that hadn't survived, and he sincerely hoped they'd never be in a plane crash again, and he could say a prayer for them on that subject if they wanted him to, and on and on he went.

Sayid was so dumbfounded that the only thought that managed to register with him was the fact of how large he felt his eyes had become. He finally managed to shake himself from his stupor and began the process of prying Chuck from Jack's person.

"I'm Chuck by the way," Chuck finally said. He was looking at them like they were the best Christmas presents he'd ever opened in his life.

Jack swallowed and wrapped his hand around Sayid's forearm and began pulling him backwards away from where Chuck was standing. When he and Sayid came into this store, they were simply looking to kill some time, engage in some small talk, and have a look-see at what the latest offerings were in the wonderful world of technology.

It hadn't occurred to him that they would find themselves fending off some half-crazed fanboy stalker.

Or at least, to them, that's how Chuck appeared. But that was before Chuck opened his mouth and uttered the next sentence.

"On behalf of all of us Americans, I just wanna say that I'm really sorry the government shot your plane down!"

Chuck paused and smiled, in a rather stupid sort of way, at the two survivors in front of him, as he nodded his head up and down in agreement with the words he'd just spoken. His good intentions faded quickly as he watched in horror as Jack's and Sayid's expressions suddenly did a complete one-eighty and their eyes narrowed in obvious anger.

"_What?"_ they both asked at the same time.

Chuck swallowed nervously and began backing away from the two as Jack strode forward, his expression tinged with a menacing look.

"_What_ did you just say?" Jack asked. His tone of voice suggested that he would brook no arguing with his question.

Chuck almost squealed in fright as he turned on his heel to run away. He ran smack into Sayid who had managed to work his way around behind Chuck, unawares. He was sporting a look of his own that suggested to Chuck that he would have no qualms whatsoever about hurting him if such an action was needed.

"Answer Jack's question," Sayid said.

Chuck turned sideways so that he wouldn't have to look at either man. A nauseous feeling swept over him, and he struggled to keep the rising wave of fear at bay. Didn't they know? How could your plane be shot down and you didn't know?

Chuck closed his eyes and decided to ignore them. Surely if he ignored them, they would simply go away.

His theory was shot to hell when Jack started speaking again. "If you don't start talking, we'll call another friend of ours who owns a case filled with four hundred knives. You _really_ don't want to meet our friend the knife collector."

Chuck was so frightened by now that he couldn't even logically process that maybe it was their harsh time on the island that had changed these two men and were causing them to act this way. Somewhere, way back in the far reaches of his mind, he wondered if they would stop being so mean to him if he started crying.

"Um," he stammered. "Uh…your pl…plane was…uh…sho…shot down…uh…by the…uh…government?" He swallowed nervously again. Oh, how desperately he needed a drink of water for his poor dry throat.

The sound of Sayid cracking his knuckles echoed in his ear. It seemed as if from a great distance when Sayid spoke his next sentence which consisted of a single word.

"And…?"

"Th…they…uh…used surface…to…um…air…mis…missi…missiles…"

Sayid leaned forward into the side of Chuck's face. _"Why?"_

Chuck suddenly placed his hands over his face and cowered. "Please don't hurt me!" he whimpered.

Jack looked at Sayid and knew that the same thing that he, himself, was thinking was also going through the other's mind.

After Charlie's death, Desmond had spiraled down into a dark place, emotionally. He took to sitting on the beach, staring vacantly out at the water and not responding to the other's attempts to get him to interact. His logic seemed to regress back to when the plane crashed. According to Locke, Desmond had told him that it was him, Desmond, who had crashed the plane when he hadn't pushed the button soon enough after returning from his unfortunate conversation with Kelvin. Desmond had begun to repeat six words over and over again, almost like a mantra.

"_If I hadn't crashed the plane."_

They could only assume that what he meant by this was if he hadn't been late with the button pushing the plane wouldn't have crashed, and Charlie wouldn't have been there to dive to his death in the Looking Glass station.

And now, what this young man was telling them was that, apparently, it hadn't been Desmond's fault, after all. It was their own government that had shot their plane down?

Jack pulled Chuck's hands away. "_How_ do you know this?" he asked. His voice was gruff with restrained emotion.

"It's…it's…I…I…can't! I…can't…it's…I…" Chuck broke off and glanced frantically around the store. It figured that Casey was on his lunch break right now and therefore was not around to intervene. His thoughts turned to Sarah, but she was across the street in her Wienerlicious shop.

Get away.

He had to get away.

"I – Can – Um – "

Chuck stopped and made a tremendous effort to pull his rattled thoughts and nerves together.

"Um," he started again, "talk…outside…?"

Jack and Sayid looked at each other and nodded. Sayid stepped away from in front of Chuck and waved him forward. Chuck began walking, slowly, deliberately, toward the front door.

_Stay calm…stay calm…_

As soon as he exited the door, Chuck tore across the parking lot, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Jack and Sayid didn't miss a beat. "Get 'im!" they both shouted in unison to no one in particular, and tore off after Chuck.

"Sarah! Sarah!" Chuck shouted, over and over again.

Of course, she couldn't hear him. The Wienerlicious shop was air conditioned which meant that the windows were shut.

All he had to do was cross the street. All he had to do was get through the traffic to the other side. Sarah would shift into butt-whooping mode and kick the crap out of these guys.

"_**Sarah!"**_

As Chuck dodged this way and that, through the traffic lanes, ignoring the profanities, and one-fingered gestures hurled in his direction, his mind, for some insane reason, turned his thoughts back to all the almost life-ending close calls he'd suffered, and endured, ever since his lovely ex-friend Bryce sent him that damned e-mail.

He'd dodged bullets, knives, helicopters, cars, explosive devices… And yet, for all that, he found himself thinking that he would gladly trade the place he was in right now with being in a place where some foreign secret agent assassin had a gun trained on him and was threatening to blow his brains out.

Yes, this was a rather unexpected twist. Two men, who didn't have anything to do with the Intersect computer, or even any government agency for that matter, were threatening him with bodily harm, and possibly torture, at the hands of 'the knife collector'.

Surely he would look back on this day and remember it as being the worst, most crummy, and horrible day of his life.

That is, if he was lucky enough to survive it…

finis

* * *

Oh, I'm sorry!. Did I forget to mention that this is one of those 'imagine your own ending' fics?

Shame on me! …tee hee…

Anyway, the explanation:

On last night's episode "Chuck Vs. The Helicopter" (10/1/07) Sarah & Casey brought in a government doctor to run tests on Chuck to see if he could work up a way to extricate the secrets from Chuck's brain so he could be returned to 'normal'. Chuck was in a small movie theater viewing room watching random images that the doctor flashed on the theater screen. When the image of a peach rose (or maybe light pink) popped up, Chuck began rattling off a litany of classified secrets, one of which was: _Oceanic flight 815 was shot down by surface to air missiles._

I was so shocked that I'm not sure I remember now how the rest of the scene progressed. I remember something about a picture of a turtle… Anyway, I actually had to call over to my sister's house during the commercial break to confirm what I heard!

Now, I didn't take the time to google Chuck before I posted this, so I don't know if Bad Robot has anything to do with Chuck or not. (although I don't recall seeing the red robot at the end of the show's credits) Possibly the folks at Chuck are just big LOST fans.

In any event, I said to myself "self, there's a story here." So, I had decided to take a self-imposed hiatus from writing during the month of Sept., and now I find myself with a story idea that I had, had, had to sit down and bang out before it drove me stark raving mad.

For the purposes of having this fic sound 'current', I took the LOSTies out of their canon LOST timeline and placed them into Chuck's timeline. In other words, they crashed _this past summer_, **not** in 2004.

I sincerely hope you enjoyed it.

If you did, please push the button (but not 108 times) and leave a review! It's free! It costs nothing, and there's no interest charge. Honest!

TTFN, Nori  
_What's a garden without guava?_  
(Yay! I finally found a LOST quote to call my own. It's a Jackquote from season one)


End file.
